


Dance

by tariana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tariana/pseuds/tariana
Summary: Who did Harry really want to dance with at the Yule Ball?





	Dance

At Harry & Ron’s flat --

 

“You know who I wanted to dance with at the Yule Ball?” Harry says around his teacup. 

We are sitting in the kitchen of our flat on a Friday night in December with nothing specific in mind to do. I’ve fixed us a cup of tea, and Harry has gotten out the Muggle playing cards, but we haven’t gotten around to deciding what game to play. I suppose I know what game Harry will choose, though. After eight years of knowing me, he has finally found a game he can beat me at – Texas Hold ‘Em, of all the mad things. He may be crap at chess, but he’s wickedly good at poker. I have gotten our spare change jar from its place in one of the cupboards – I refuse to play for serious money.

Knowing what I know now, I have a good idea who he is talking about – who he wanted to dance with – but my heart still lurches happily when he speaks again.

“You.”

This is rather random, and I wonder what brought it to Harry’s mind. Harry is forever coming up with random topics of conversation – or rather, seemingly random topics. The trick seems to be finding out why they’re actually NOT random.

“Where did that come from?” I ask dutifully.

“Genesis,” Harry says, gesturing vaguely toward the Muggle wireless on the counter.

A new song has begun, and I listen. I have heard this one before, and I believe Harry actually has it on one of those Muggle discs – those CD’s. It’s a slow, sad song, but I suppose it’s romantic enough, if you like that sort of thing.

Well, it’s no Yule Ball, but maybe it will do.

I stand and walk the few steps around the table to where Harry sits. I extend my hand, and Harry takes it, looking pleased. He stands, and there are a few moments of awkward shuffling as we try to decide who should lead. Finally, I just give up and put my arm around Harry while keeping his hand held firmly in mine.

His free hand comes to rest at the back of my neck, under my hair. His callused fingers are warm against the skin of my neck and my hand.

We sway gently to the beat of the music for a while. Then near the end of the song, Harry lets go of my hand and wraps both arms around me. He leans up to kiss me as the song fades away.

The Muggle radio announcer is speaking, but I can’t focus on what he is saying any longer, not with Harry kissing me like this. Suddenly, there is only Harry, and there is no focusing on anything but Harry. He pushes me back against the counter and drops to his knees. His hands fumble with my belt and the flies of my jeans, and then all I can hear is my own heartbeat, pounding in my ears, and all I can see is Harry, looking wickedly up at me through his fringe, and all I can feel is Harry’s mouth.

Those green eyes hold mine until I can stand it no longer. My eyelids flutter, and then I am squeezing my eyes shut and gripping the sharp edge of the counter so it digs into my palms. My legs threaten to buckle, and then suddenly every muscle in my body tenses as Harry does one last brilliant move with his tongue.

I’m honestly not sure what happens for the next few moments, because I think my brain has died. At some point, two things happen: I regain at least a bit of my brain, and my legs really do give way as they’ve been threatening to do. I slump back, sliding down the front of the cabinets.

I look over at Harry, who looks very, very smug.

“That, then... did you want to do that at the Yule Ball, as well?” I ask.

Harry just laughs.

After a moment, I do, too.


End file.
